


Knives and Pills

by オビカカファッカー (Drakojana)



Series: Obitober 2020 [5]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, M/M, Obitober 2020, Oneshot, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:00:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26832571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drakojana/pseuds/%E3%82%AA%E3%83%93%E3%82%AB%E3%82%AB%E3%83%95%E3%82%A1%E3%83%83%E3%82%AB%E3%83%BC
Summary: Kakashi's every day ritual is to come to the Memorial Stone. Obito's is to watch over him.Day 5 // Ritual
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Uchiha Obito
Series: Obitober 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947070
Comments: 11
Kudos: 178





	Knives and Pills

Every day. For Kakashi, it was every single damn day he was in the village. No matter who wanted to meet with him, who he had to keep waiting, where he had to be. 

Sometimes as soon as the Sun would appear in the sky, Kakashi would, without fail, visit the one spot in the village. The Memorial Stone dedicated to all the Konoha shinobi that had been killed in action. All the names with no bodies to bury. 

It was his ritual. His good luck charm before each mission, perhaps. Asking the ghosts of his past to watch over him as he carried on their legacy, fulfilled their hopes and dreams, made the world better for future generations.

But it was what foolish bystanders could think. People who only knew Kakashi’s name, who passed him by every single day without sparing him more than five minutes of their thoughts.

Obito knew the truth. He knew Kakashi was there just to make himself feel better. To talk to dead children, ask them for forgiveness, give another kind of empty apologies. 

Others saw it as endearing or sad. Obito saw it for what it truly was - pathetic. 

And yet, even though he could leave any time he wanted, no, even choose not to come at all, he still did so. He still watched over Kakashi’s morning routine, in a way it was his own ritual.

He’d heard it all. 

Every apology for every thing Kakashi thought he’d done wrong. Every blame Kakashi would put on himself. Every regret he carried in his heart. Every expectation from both the dead and living crushing his shoulders. Every worry crushing his already barely remaining hope. 

Obito knew Kakashi was no more than a walking husk of a man, driven to the brink of exhaustion with his experiences. He had barely turned twenty and he’d already felt like he was at the death’s doorstep.

Sometimes, Obito thought it was nothing short of a miracle Kakashi hadn’t died yet. And sometimes, Kakashi wouldn’t come to the Memorial Stone at all despite being on standby in the village.

Obito would find him in his bed, with blood slowly trickling down his arms. Or with a bottle of painkillers in one hand and some sake in the other. The sight would always repulse him. He’d call Kakashi disgusting for even trying. 

He’d take away the bloody kunai knife, throw out the alcohol and put away the pills back into the bathroom cabinet. He’d burn any stupid notes Kakashi would plan on leaving behind. 

Kakashi always wrote how he never wanted anyone to find him. How he didn’t want anyone to go through the same thing he had. Obito would call him a hypocrite and sit down beside his still unmoving body. 

He was always on time, thankfully. But every time he wondered, what if one day he’d be late. Funnily enough, it was Kakashi who was the one late everywhere now. Yet the thought still lingered on his mind.

It was one of those times, Kakashi hadn’t even mentioned how he felt he’d failed as a teacher. His legs didn’t even take him out of the apartment. His hands didn’t reach for any bandages. 

Obito was brushing his fingers through Kakashi’s hair. The bleeding had stopped without Obito moving Kakashi’s arms around too much. The Konoha shinobi was curled up in a fetal position, a pose so familiar and common for him. 

He looked nothing like a hero or a famous shinobi with hundreds of deaths to his name. If anyone saw him like that, they’d think of him as no more than a pathetic excuse of a man. 

Obito knew the truth, though. He lightly caressed Kakashi’s cheek. 

“No matter what the people say...” He murmured, mimicking his own words.

He saw Kakashi’s eyelids move and a quiet whine built up at the back of his throat. Obito sighed, knowing it was his time to leave. He got up and activated his Sharingan. But before he’d leave, he had to take one last look at Kakashi.

With his eyes still closed, Kakashi breathed out.

“... Thank you… Obito…”

But the room was empty.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!


End file.
